


Uncover My Name

by Casey_Wolfe



Category: Generation Kill
Genre: (brief; nothing graphic), Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Friendship, M/M, Mention of torture, Pre-Series, Romance, Soulmate-Identifying Marks
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-24
Updated: 2017-01-24
Packaged: 2018-09-19 17:20:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,127
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9452054
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Casey_Wolfe/pseuds/Casey_Wolfe
Summary: Brad tried not to dwell on the fact he’d yet to see Nate’s soulmark.  The man had no business wearing long-sleeves in the fucking desert.





	

**Author's Note:**

> I did that short tidbit of a soulmate-type AU a while back, but I’m more the “name on your wrist”/”symbol” type than “first words” or some of the others floating around. So while doing a rewatch of Gen Kill, I had a thought of how one such AU would go down. And here you have it.

The first time they met was when Nate called all the NCO’s together for an informal talk.  At the time, Brad thought it was a tactic, a way for an officer to try and appear like “one of the guys.”  Brad was quick to realize though it was just the way Nate was.

Granted, Brad didn’t know his name was _Nate_ until a couple weeks in.  He and Poke were talking and the name had been dropped.  “Nate?” Brad asked.

“Fick?”  Poke looked at him like he was stupid.

“Oh.”  Brad tried to shrug it off.  “Didn’t know that was his name.”

Poke moved on in the conversation, missing the way that Brad scratched subconsciously at the bandage on his right arm.

* * *

Nate watched Brad probably more than he should have.  It wasn’t appropriate.  And really, what were the odds that this was _his_ Bradley?  Nate had been wrong before.

It wasn’t as though Nate could verify.  Brad kept bandages wrapped around his forearm, hiding his soulmark.  It was usually only done if someone’s soulmate had died or, even rarer, when they had been rejected.  But some people did it out of privacy for whatever reason, and still some cultures or religions called for such a thing.  Nate doubted that was the case given the use of bandages instead of something more decorative.

Most of the men’s soulmarks were there for the world to see.  Hell, they even had a fated pair within the platoon - Rudy and Pappy wore their soulmarks proudly.  Even if they didn’t, Nate was certain that anyone spending time around them would be able to tell their bond.

There was Brad though, hiding whatever name graced his skin.  “If it were mine, he would have said something,” Nate reasoned.

Mike stood next to him, shaking his head.  “Nate-”

“I know, I know.”

Mike smirked at him and Nate huffed, walking away.

* * *

Brad tried not to dwell on the fact he’d yet to see Nate’s soulmark.  The man had no business wearing long-sleeves in the fucking desert.  Yet even now, when Nate joined them for training, he wore his light uniform shirt.

They were all rolling around, wrestling.  It was part fun, part training.  Marines tended to get violent if left to their own devices, and waiting around at Mathilda for orders was enough to drive any of them batty.  So daily training was a way to keep everyone square.

Brad pitched Ray aside when he heard the pop.  Nate was holding his wrist, Walt apologizing profusely.  “It’s fine, Walt,” Nate assured, forcing a little smile.

Doc Bryan had been taking a break, watching over them, and was there immediately.  “Lemme see.”

“It’s fine,” Nate repeated.  “Just popped it out for a second.”

Not that Doc took that for an answer.  He rolled up Nate’s sleeve to examine his wrist.  There was no way for Brad to miss the looping black on Nate’s forearm, the name _Bradley_ slipping below his sleeve.

“Nothing’s broke,” Doc finally agreed.  “Go put some ice on it before it swells.”

Brad felt his chest tighten and he turned away.

* * *

Nate had looked up to check if any of the men caught the name on his arm.  It seemed only Doc and Walt were paying attention though.  Even Brad was focusing on Ray.

“Sorry again, LT,” Walt mentioned, drawing his attention.  He looked rather like a kicked puppy.

Nate gave him a soft smile, scruffing the back of his neck with his left hand and giving him a little shake.  “Accidents happen.”

He chanced another glance over at a distracted Brad before going off to get that ice.  Mike was going to bitch at him, he was sure.

* * *

_SERE training was designed to prepare them, to push their boundaries, to make sure they were leadership material.  Nate had lost track of how long he had been held in his prison cell.  He had resisted all the attempts of psychological torture and interrogation techniques._

_That was until the knife came out._

_“If you don’t talk,” his interrogator threatened, “I’ll slice that damn soulmark right off your skin.”_

_Nate went still.  He forgot how to breathe.  He looked over at the interrogator, feeling the prickle of sweat on his brow.  When the interrogator grabbed his arm, pinning it down, Nate began to shake.  And he couldn’t stop._

_Even knowing somewhere in the back of his mind that these were all tests, that they could never hurt him in any real damaging way, it didn’t matter._

_The knife loomed close to his arm and Nate’s eyes widened.  “No!” he screamed, voice breaking and tears catching at the corner of his eyes.  “No!_ **_Please_** _!”_

_The knife was immediately put away.  His shackles were released and the lights came up to a comfortable level.  A door opened and a medic came in, murmuring comfort and beginning to check his vitals._

_Nate just continued to shake.  “No,” he whispered, eyes screwing shut as he shook his head._

_Later, when he had been given some water and medically cleared, one of the evaluators approached.  Nate was almost certain he had failed, but the man assured him otherwise.  “That’s the point most everyone cracks.  It’s a tactic used for hardball cases.”_

_Nate nodded, eyes focused on his feet._

_“It’s a dirty tactic,” the evaluator continued.  “But it’s one the enemy isn’t above using.”_

_“Yes sir,” Nate murmured.  His fingers left red marks around his arm where he held his soulmate’s name for dear life._

* * *

“Sergeant Colbert!” Sixta barked.

Brad sighed, throwing Ray a look - if this was about something he did _again_.  Brad removed himself from the engine compartment they were hanging over.  He turned to greet Sixta as he approached, looking as murderous as always.

“What in the Sam Hell do you think you’re doing?” Sixta demanded.  “Traipsing around with that shit on your arm in direct violation of the grooming standard?”

Brad glanced down at his arm out of habit before looking back up at Sixta.  Before he could defend himself though, Nate intervened, coming from God-knew-where.

“Sergent Major,” Nate interjected, standing to the side.  “The grooming standard allows for marines to wear a covering over their soulmark should they choose to.”

Sixta’s eyes were sharp as they cut to Nate.  “That may be.  But when we step off, that rule changes.”  He looked down his nose at Brad - a feat considering Sixta was much shorter.  “You find yourself a _proper_ covering or you won’t have any.  Am I understood, sergeant?”

“Yes sir,” Brad answered, staying still until Sixta turned and stalked off, his focus on new prey.  He let out a sigh, deflating.  “Great.”

* * *

Nate frowned.  Sixta was right.

The rules did say that if a marine wanted to cover their soulmark, it had to follow certain guidelines.  They were lax when in a camp, but out in combat it was considered a safety issue.  The material had to be something that wouldn’t be torn or damaged easily - leather was a popular choice - and had to have a zipper or snaps to remove quickly in case of emergency.  Brad’s makeshift bandages didn’t qualify.

“I don’t think we have time to have something shipped in,” Nate started apologetically, drawing Brad’s attention.  “But I can take a look around, see what I can dig up.”

Brad’s lips pursed a moment, looking down.  “I appreciate the thought.  It’s my own fault though.  When I lost my leather one, I should have ordered another right away.”  Brad reached up, starting to undo the bandages.

Nate stepped forward, reaching out to put his hand over Brad’s.  “Brad.  It’s no one’s business but your own why you cover your mark.  If you want it covered…”  Nate swallowed, removing his hand.  He looked up to meet Brad’s eyes.  “I’ll go get Wynn and we’ll ask around.”

Losing his nerve, Nate turned to go but Brad’s voice stopped him.  “Nate…”  He looked over his shoulder.  “Wait.”

When Nate turned back around, Brad started to unwrap his arm again.  It was only a couple layers, just enough to cover his arm, not protect it.

Nate felt his chest tighten, his breath catching when he saw the name written on Brad’s arm.   _Nathaniel_.

Nate left out a little huff of amusement, lips twitching up a moment.  Moving back into Brad’s space, he glanced up to look at Brad a moment before slowly reaching for his arm.  He cradled Brad’s forearm in one hand, pulling it closer.  He laughed a little louder that time, feelings he couldn’t explain overcoming him.  Nate traced the letters with a finger, smiling softly.

Brad moved, fingers brushing over Nate’s right wrist pointedly.  “You saw,” Nate guessed.

“Yeah.”

After a moment, Nate ordered Brad to follow him.

“And just where are we going?” Brad asked, matching his strides.

“Might as well start the search for a proper cover in my billet.”  He smirked over at Brad, watching the humor dance in his eyes.

In the tent he shared with Mike, Nate shrugged out of his jacket.  Brad grabbed his right arm, able to see his own name staring back.  Brad looked… fascinated.

“You never said anything,” Nate mentioned.  He was a little hurt, thinking that Brad had known but hadn’t done anything about it.

“We’re going to war.  I didn’t think it would be appropriate.”  Brad dropped his arm, not meeting Nate’s gaze.  “We need to be focused on our jobs.”

“I get it, Brad,” he assured gently.  “But right now?”  His lips quirked.  “We have some time.”

Brad looked at him carefully.

Nate was the one to look away that time, going to the footlocker he had most of his things stowed in.  “I take it you covered it because it’s a male name.”

“I’m not ashamed of it,” Brad clarified immediately.  “And it’s not like I’m opposed to being with a guy.”

Nate looked over, raising a brow in surprise.

Brad huffed.  “When you have a guy’s name on your arm, you experiment, okay?”

Nate smiled in amusement, going back to his things in search of something that might help them out.

“No, it’s ‘cause of where we’re at,” Brad continued.

“Don’t I know it,” Nate muttered.  “Never covered your name until I joined OCS.  Didn’t want…”

Well, neither of them had to explain.  There were plenty of people who shit on same-sex partnerships, despite the fact that no one got to _choose_ their soulmate.  Sure, people would date and even marry those who weren’t the ones on their arm, but most people yearned to find that other half of their soul.

When you were talking about the military though, especially elite units like recon, you were talking about an overtly-masculine environment.  It was better to just avoid a problem before it began, and that meant hiding their marks.

“After seeing Pappy and Rudy,” Nate continued, setting some things aside, “I almost said ‘Fuck it.’  But with you…”  Nate paused.  “I didn’t know if you were mine or not.  And I didn’t want to cause any problems.”

He could hear Brad approach, and his eyes fell shut at the hand laid gently on his shoulder.  “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you.”

Nate’s lips curled into a soft smile, looking up at Brad.  “You’re forgiven.”

Brad smiled back and they stood there, just staring at each other, for some time.

Remembering his task at hand, Nate went back to going through his things.  “Ah.  Here.”  He pulled out a pair of desert camo pants.  “They gave me the wrong size.  Told me to just keep these.  If I can find a needle and thread I can-”  He cut himself off when he looked up to find Brad grinning at him, holding back laughter from the look of it.  “What?”

“Nate.”  Brad sighed fondly, pulling the pants from his hands.  “It’s fine.”  He smiled again.  “I already told you, I’m not ashamed.”

Nate licked his lips nervously.  “I don’t want there to be an issue because I’m an officer.”  It just came out.  But it was something that Nate had worried about ever since he started to think this Brad might actually be _thee_ Brad.

It wasn’t like Pappy and Rudy, who were both enlisted men.  Because Brad was an NCO - and his team leader at that - and Nate was an officer, someone could argue preferential treatment.  Someone could turn things bad for them in any number of ways.

“No one in Bravo-2 is going to say anything,” Brad insisted.

“But outside the platoon-”

Brad stepped into his space.  “No one outside the platoon would ever see it.”

Nate frowned.  He couldn’t be so sure.

Brad only continued to smile.  “I’ll take care of it,” he promised, leaning in and pressing a kiss to Nate’s forehead.

Not that Nate was about to let _that_ go.  He tilted his head back, lips connecting with Brad’s.  He could feel Brad smile and Nate sank against him.

So this was what it felt like.

* * *

They were at the PX, having dragged Reporter along to make him useful.  Money in hand and orders from just about everyone in Bravo-2, Brad didn’t need to be shopping for himself.  As he caught sight of someone’s soulmark though, his brows drew together.

He knew what he’d told Nate.  Brad trusted that none of his men would cause problems if they knew he and Nate were soulmates.  These weren’t the stupid grunts he’d gone through boot with.  Brad had covered his soulmark more out of habit than anything, and to stave off any issues with men outside his unit.

Still, he understood Nate’s worry.  Brad was fairly certain that Nate was more concerned about Brad’s career than his own.  If only to protect Nate, Brad would make sure his arm stayed covered.

“Hey,” Brad grabbed the attention of one of the guys behind the counter, “you have any regulation-approved soulmark covers?”

“Yeah, a few.  Hold on.”

As the guy put them on the counter, Brad grabbed Ray’s arm and tugged him forward.  “You needed one too, right?”

Ray had been his friend - well, _friend_ might have been too generous - since Afghanistan, so it only took Ray a moment to catch the hint.  “Yeah,” he agreed, looking for something his size.  Brad figured Ray and Nate’s forearms were close enough.

All of the covers they had were black leather, which was fine by Brad.  As he snapped one onto his left forearm, he was pleased to find it was comfortable too.  It wasn’t as nice as the last one he’d had, but it would do.  “I’ll take it.”  He snatched the one from Ray that he confirmed fit well.  “I’ve got you covered.”

“Thanks, homes,” Ray replied good-naturedly, going back to helping Reporter with the list.

As they were heading out, Ray bumped their shoulders together.  “So who wanted a cover?”  Ray was, of course, there when Sixta had called him out on the bandages.

“As though you don’t know,” Brad huffed right back.

“ _Ohh_.”  Ray grinned.  He had known the name on Brad’s arm since their first deployment.  And he had teased Brad mercilessly when he’d returned from Nate’s tent.  “So you found the right Nate, huh?”

“Shut it, Ray,” Brad growled, eyes flicking back to their tail.  Reporter was too busy juggling a bunch of bags to notice.

Ray just threw his hands up.  Instead, he turned his attention to Reporter, chattering a mile a minute.  At least Ray had someone else to bother for once.

* * *

“Have something for you,” Brad mentioned after being invited into Nate’s tent later that day.  He paused when he saw Wynn there as well.

“It’s fine,” Nate said, waving it off.  Brad caught the sight of Nate’s bare arm, Brad’s name standing out against pale skin.

Brad smiled a bit then, put at ease that Wynn knew.  He took the cover from his pocket, holding it out.  “I thought you might like it.”

Nate smiled softly.  “You didn’t have to do that.”

“No reason to risk getting heat stroke just to hide that.”  Brad nodded his head towards Nate’s arm.

Nate noted the one Brad was wearing.  “It looks good.”  He tried his own on then, moving his arm around a bit to check the fit.  “Not worried someone might read into the fact they match?”

Brad lifted a shoulder.  “It’s all they had at the PX.  And they’re generic enough.”

“True.”  Nate looked at the cover in approval, smiling at Brad.  “It’s really nice.  Thank you.”  He stepped forward, pressing a quick kiss to Brad’s lips.

Brad couldn’t stop his smile.  “You’re welcome.”  His eyes caught Wynn moving out of the corner of his eye and he cleared his throat, stepping back.  “Well, I should get going.”

“Stay,” Wynn insisted, hand at his back momentarily, stopping his retreat.  “I’m gonna go join that card game Patterson mentioned.  See you in a couple hours, Nate.”

Nate smirked, shaking his head.  “Well,” he mused, “you heard the man.”  Nate sat on the edge of his cot, taking off his boots.  Admittedly, Brad was a little jealous the officers got cots while in camp.  Then again, once they got underway, everyone would be in ranger graves.

Nate set his boots aside, looking up at him with a cocked brow.  “Need a formal invitation, Brad?”

Snapping out of it, Brad sat on the edge of the cot while Nate moved to lay down on his side.  A hand ran up and down his spine, causing a sigh to escape Brad’s lips.

Boots off, Brad arranged himself next to Nate, their chests pressed together.  It was a tight fit and the cot creaked in protest, but neither of them cared.

Nate’s lips found his, gentle but insistent.  Brad’s hand cupped Nate’s jaw, tilting his head a bit.  His hand then slide around, squeezing the back of Nate’s neck.

Brad brushed their noses together as the kiss ended, neither moving back.  They were sharing the same breath and Brad didn’t think he had experienced anything so intimate before.  It was like every nerve ending came alive, every place Nate touched him leaving static in its wake.

It wasn’t love - not yet - but it was a near thing.

Brad removed Nate’s leather cover one-handed, tossing it aside.  His hand wrapped around Nate’s arm - _his name_ \- like a brand.

This was what he’d been trying to find - _who_ he’d been searching for.  Out of all the Nate’s in the world, this one was his.  If he believed in any gods, then he would have felt blessed.

“Promise me you’ll be careful out there.”  The words were off Brad’s tongue without thought.

Nate’s nose brushed across his cheek.  “You promise the same, and you’ve got yourself a deal.”

Brad smiled a little.  “Deal.”

They sealed it with a kiss.

/End

**Author's Note:**

> Follow me on [Tumblr](http://thedenofcaseywolfe.tumblr.com/).


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